Thanksgiving Holiday Orphans: How To Be Lonely

Thanksgiving is this week. Some Americans are giddy with excitement. Others dread Aunt Carol, who never misses an opportunity to brag. Many will catch up with old friends. My husband and I will spend it alone: watching the parade, cooking a chicken, and practicing the art of being irrelevant.

As a childfree family, we don’t have those automatic holiday guests other families have. Nobody arrives with a rolling suitcase and a dramatic layover story. It’s usually just the two of us. We like to pretend we’re a 1960s advertisement for chic loneliness.

Sometimes we spend Thanksgiving with friends. We always have a good time. But it’s not the same as spending holidays with people who once watched you cry over a broken toy. Friends don’t usually remind everyone about that time you peed on the doctor or did something adorable. There’s no swapping of family mythology, reminiscing about the dead, or eating grandma’s pies.

I think it’s good for a person to spend time alone. It gives them an opportunity to discover who they are and to figure out why they are always alone.

Amy Sedaris

I Gave Them 40 Years

For the first four decades of my life, I spent the holidays with my family. I’d book the flight, kennel the dogs, slog my way through airports behind less experienced travelers, and arrive with a cold. All for the reward of receiving some version of love that doesn’t require any of them to do any of that.

Ten years ago, I realized I was the only one in my family who cared about spending the holidays together. I always felt welcome, but also unnecessary. Like a specialized kitchen utensil. Sure, it’s nice to own a garlic press, but nobody needs one. 

It was around the time we moved to a bigger house. When I invited everyone for the holidays, one person said, “But we always celebrate it here!” Another sneered, “Yeah, that’s not going to happen.” Like I’d suggested a party bong contest after dessert.

For years I thought they might change their minds. So I’d say things like, “we need this $700 espresso machine in case my brother ever visits.” And, “If Jordan ever visits, I’ll bring them here.”

I don’t say shit like that anymore. But I do still keep an old turkey platter just in case. It sits dusty in a cupboard under a neon fruit bowl and a bag of stale bird seed. But I’ve long since accepted that I’m not Thanksgiving or Christmas, or Flag Day, or Wednesday to any of them. I’m just a kitchen utensil that’s useful, optional, and mainly for special occasions.

If you, too, are a Thanksgiving Orphan, there are ways to make the holidays pleasant without adopting random strangers from the airport.

How To Do Thanksgiving Lonely

1. Accept Others’ Limitations. I’d love to host my family, but I’ve accepted that they’re never going to visit. If you’re in this situation, recognize it can be lonely. But also, you get to start the whiskey tasting contest at 9am and be naked by noon.
2. Create Your Own Traditions. My husband and I have a tradition of having no traditions. But if we did, we’d come up something that would confound archaeologists centuries from now.
3. If You’re ALONE Alone. When I spent my alone holidays before I met my husband, I’d pick up food from a gourmet grocery, drink a bottle of wine, and watch the BBC’s Pride & Prejudice with Jennifer Ehle and Colin Firth. I loved having my own weird, indulgent habit.
4. Volunteer. If your town has a turkey trot, a soup kitchen or a retirement home, consider getting involved. If nothing else, you’ll meet kind people who might be Thanksgiving orphans themselves.
5. Be Strategically Pathetic. Make sure friends and even casual acquaintances know you’re sad and alone for the holiday. A mournful look and a cracked voice might yield an invite to an interesting shindig.
6. Crash Someone Else’s Holiday. If you know where a celebration is happening, concoct a reason to participate. Just look through people’s windows for opportunities. Show up with a box of homemade cookies and say something like, “This looks like a lovely party. I thought you might enjoy these cookies.“ Maybe they’ll invite you in and it will become a new tradition.
7. Stalk Your Family From Afar. Call them and listen to the background, check out their social media, or install hidden cameras in advance of the holiday. Nothing says “togetherness” like observing people who don’t try too hard to include you.